The Conversation
by Jessie Marsh
Summary: She never thought she'd see him again, now he's her boss. How will the arrival of her school-day sweetheart affect Sandra's relationship with Gerry? Three voices, one story.
1. Chapter 1

**The Conversation**

A BBC _New Tricks_ fan-fiction

By Jessie Marsh

disclaimer: _New Tricks_ and all it's goodness belongs to BBC. Just borrowing from the store cupboard...

I

"I want you at that presentation in one hour and preferably sober," I said firmly, adding the latter as a serious warning to my three renegades. Two of which were going to drink; one of whom could hide it well; and the other…well.

"You know, it was a woman who drove me to drink in the first place," the 'other' quickly quipped with a cheeky wink and a step toward me.

"Yeah, yeah, and you forgot to write and thank her," I grinned, planting a light kiss on his cheek. "I mean it, Gerry. Let's at least try and make a good impression for the new DAC."

"I suppose he can't be any worse than the last one," Gerry rolled his eyes.

I smiled. Gerry and our previous DAC, Don Bevan, had a lengthy history of mutual distaste for each other, punctuated at various intervals with Gerry breaking Bevan's jaw and me taking the rap for Gerry setting off the fire alarm during an identity parade. I was sure that when he found out the truth about our new superior, he'd be equally as nonplussed. "One hour," I repeated.

"One hour," he agreed with a small kiss. "Sober. I promise. Well…"

"Just be there," I shook my head in mock despair, nodded to Jack who was standing in the background, and walked round to the small car park. Sometimes I wondered what Jack thought about me and Gerry. I don't think for a moment that when he persuaded me to hire the Cockney rebel that he was doing a Cilla Black and setting us up. But these things happen. He annoyed the hell out of me; thoroughly disgusted me in many and varied ways, both personally and professionally; and made me laugh. He'd been so excited about Little Gerry's christening that, thankfully, he hadn't seemed to notice my distraction since hearing the name of our new DAC. It wasn't that I liked to keep secrets from him, from any of them; but how I would explain my previous…relationship, with our new boss was something that I could not completely fathom out until I had met with the man first. How this meeting would go, I was not entirely sure. I couldn't say for certain whether I was glad or incensed that it wasn't going to be a private meeting; I wasn't even sure that I truly deserved a private audience with him. At this distance in time, and it was a considerable distance, it was perfectly feasible to assume that we were once again strangers and that there would be no peculiar underlying, threatening to become all-encompassing, emotional turmoil which might appear unprofessional. If only I could believe that. For the last week, since hearing the news, and after the joy of Bevan's departure had worn off, I had been in two minds whether or not to tell the boys. I was sure that I was doing the right thing in waiting to see how it would play out. I was also sure that I had spent the last week in the afore mentioned emotional turmoil. Would it be weird? Or more precisely, how weird would it be? How much would he have changed? How much had I changed? Would his voice still sound the same? And his eyes… would his eyes still look the same?

I managed to shake a modicum of sense and calm into myself before I entered the hall, fashionably late. As quietly as possible, and successfully too I might add, I snuck into the room unnoticed. My eyes were immediately drawn to the stage, to him. He seemed to be listening intently to the words the woman was saying as she concluded and introduced him to the lectern.

It was a disaster. Oh, don't get me wrong; the lectern didn't spontaneously combust and take him and any hope of reconciliation in a gulf of smoke; he didn't trip over a stray black cat, fall off the stage and randomly ignite; he didn't open his mouth to reveal that he was in fact a dragon (taking after his mother) and transform the entire assembly into a massive ball of flames and tar… in fact, there was no fire. Just a terribly dampening, soul destroying realisation that enveloped my senses as soon as he began talking and his eye accidentally caught my own: I still loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hiya, I'd like to say a massive thank-you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! Here's the next part!_

_Jessie xx_

II

This was horrible. I hate doing these big presentations. Why can't someone just take a job and have a meeting with the department heads rather than all this carry on? There are several answers to that of course. And only one reason why I particularly objected to this occasion.

Even as I straightened my tie in the bathroom mirror, hours before the dreaded assembly, I couldn't stop the questions flying around my head. She'd be there. Of course she would. Should I have called? When should I have called? So many times.

"Daddy?"

I turned and grinned widely at the sight of my seven year old son's attempt to tie his school tie. It resembled something of a noose.

"It doesn't look like yours," he mumbled, plucking at it as if that would fix the problem.

"Not quite," I agreed, kneeling in front of him and tugging gently at the very knotted silk. "It's not bad though, did you do it yourself?"

He nodded enthusiastically. I wished I could be a seven year old boy again. Ok, that was probably, well, not the stupidest thought or the most improbable that I would have that day. I ruffled his hair and sent him down to finish his breakfast. For some reason my son decided that toast was something that was to be eaten not only after cereal but after he was actually ready to go to school. This course of action usually resulted in him happily leaving toast crumbs on the back seat of my car. If only that could be the most awful thing that would happen today. Right, I was seriously losing the ability of rational thought now.

"Daddy!" the shout came up the stairs, this time from my daughter. "Mum says we're going to be late!"

"Be right there!" I called back. My reflection stared back at me. My tie still wasn't straight.

Having listened to an in-depth debate between my charming children about some brightly-coloured characters on a programme that despite their best efforts I never managed to be home in time to watch with them (I think I caught it once and promised my cerebral cortex that it would never be that confused again); I successfully dropped them off at school without tying a noose around my neck and made my way to work.

As I followed my new superior around the station, resisting the urge to tell him that I did in fact know my way around having only been out of the country for a couple of months, my thoughts inevitably turned to the one meeting I was not looking forward to. This unavoidable turn of cognitive direction was definitely not helped to avoid when the old bore pointed out where the UCOS offices were.

Detective Superintendent. She hadn't even been a PC when I'd first met her. So much time had passed since that day. Good times, shared times. But it had been sixteen years since then. Would she have told her team about our… history? Maybe I should have called her, asked to meet her. To say what? No. Enough time had passed surely that we were little more now than two people who had known each other a long time ago. Though the hands of the clock would never turn sufficiently to forget. It would be weird. But how weird? How much would she have changed? How much had I changed? Would her voice still sound the same? And her eyes… would her eyes still look the same? The same chameleon blue that told every secret of her heart. Once upon a fairytale I'd been able to read those secrets. But that had been then. The past is another country as L.P. Hartley would say.

Having been given the 'grand tour' without falling down any stairs; avoiding poisoning myself with the coffee in my new office which was, honestly? Cramped; and not been shredded by the paper shredder that I had simply been prodding with loose receipts for something to do; I made my way to the presentation.

I avoiding looking at the audience for the most part; a brief, unseeing, nod when my name was mentioned in the opening speech my only acknowledgement that they were even there seemed enough to be going on with. I listened with varying interest to what was being said, keeping my attention on the speaker. Some part of me, or mostly all of me, knew that this wasn't a mature-Deputy-Assistant-Commissioner-style of behaviour, but I couldn't be sure on any level that I was ready to see her again. Eventually fated moment came and I stood and walked to the lectern.

It was a disaster. It could have been that day nearly thirty years ago. That assembly. Don't worry, this time I didn't forget my lines, fall into the lectern and give the head boy a black eye; but in one glance at the audience my eye was drawn to the sunny blonde head of my first love. For a fleeting, terrifying second our eyes met as they had that day in the school assembly hall. And as fervently as I had felt back then, I knew I still loved her.


	3. Chapter 3

_Heya, thanks again for all the support for this story! This part completes the first phase with one final voice joining the conversation. Enjoy!_

_Jessie xx_

III

I'm not a fool. I knew something was up; I'd known it as soon as she'd read the e-mail that told her the identity of the new DAC. She knew him. She wouldn't say how she knew him or how well; as a matter of fact she still hadn't actually told us that she knew him. I'd have called her on it by now, but there was the small matter of my grandson's christening to distract me completely. I should have said something.

I didn't mean to be late either. Flaming everything was conspiring against me that morning so that I was the last one there. Why Esther was crying was slightly bewildering, but apparently coffins always make her cry. Luckily the vicar saved the day and fitted us in anyway. Luckily because everything was bleedin' arranged and paid for! Besides, it's always better to be late to any copper congregation, right? We may be retired now and working as civilians but there's still a hell of a lot of people in the job that I'd for one rather not bump into in any social situation. Especially not a formal one. And, as I would learn, especially not one particular person.

"I want you at that presentation in one hour and preferably sober," a stern honey-coated voice informed me. As I was currently absorbed in tricking Brian into buying me a drink whilst doting over the latest addition to the family, I opted for the charm-offensive.

"You know, it was a woman who drove me to drink in the first place," I quipped with a cheeky wink, tearing myself away from one object of my attention to the other.

"Yeah, yeah, and you forgot to write and thank her," she grinned and planted a light kiss on my cheek. "I mean it, Gerry. Let's at least try and make a good impression for the new DAC."

"I suppose he can't be any worse than the last one," I admitted whilst rolling my eyes. She smiled again, she knew about my history with Bevan. Mainly because Bevan had spent most of his time after she'd hired me trying to find reasons for her to fire me. Luckily, he hadn't succeeded. In fact, him turning her against me had probably done me a lot of favours. Making me forbidden fruit perhaps… this thought more than his recent departure allowed me to return her smile with one of me own.

"One hour," she repeated firmly.

"One hour," I agreed with a small kiss. "Sober. I promise. Well…"

"Just be there."

She shook her head in what I hoped was mock despair, she really ought to know me at least a little by now. I watched as she nodded to Jack and made her was to where the cars were parked.

"Right," I turned back to the crowd. "Pub?"

Two pints and three whiskey chasers later and having given our apologies to the girls, Esther dropped us off at the station. Sometimes I wonder how on earth she puts up with Brian. Mind you, sometimes I wonder how on earth Sandra puts up with me. It had been a strange one. I mean, she's a looker for sure. But a bit posh and stuck up with it. Well, she is when you first meet her. It's the job, it's what it does to women, well the ones that decide to chase the ladder. Some of them stop behaving like women, stop being women. Not Sandra though. And anyway, that all sounds a lot like a chauvinist talking there; I don't mean it like that though. It's not a man's job, being a copper. Any man or woman can do the job, and do it well, but sometimes people forget that.

Luckily, we'd missed all the boring speeches and presentation by the time we found the room; Jack said it was on the first floor, Brian said the second, and I said we should go back to the pub. Jack was right, but neither of us will ever bring it up again. Everyone was milling about in the large room, I was only looking for one person though and caught sight of her talking to some woman with a stiff in uniform. A stiff that without doubt was our new guv'ner. And a stiff that with no shadow of a shadow of a doubt had known my girlfriend. And I mean _known_.

This could be a disaster. Not being a fool, and actually being quite smart (though don't let on), I know when two people who used to know each other meet again and don't quite know how to deal with it. From the distance that I engineered maintaining for a few moments by not alerting the others to the fact that I'd spotted her, I watched them. Call it wishful thinking, but neither of them looked very comfortable about meeting again, and less comfortable than that about being stood next to each other. It must have been a long time since they'd seen each other, maybe ten years or more. They hadn't parted on good terms, but what they'd had was something that had meant a lot to both of them. Alright, so I couldn't know any of these things for certain; but they didn't seem bad inferences. I'd know soon enough how close to the mark I was. For now though, I knew one thing, one unstoppable thing that I would fight for: I loved her.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi, this is bowling along way faster at the moment than I was expecting it too, so here is the next part! Enjoy!_

_Jessie xx_

IV

"Ah, here we are," the AC bore announced cheerfully. Did he know? Mentally, I shook my head; no he was just a twit. She turned around as she heard his voice, her eyes met mine and shot away just as quickly, darting first to the window, to the door, then focussing on the idiot next to me. "Deputy Assistant Commissioner Robert Strickland, this is Detective –"

"Detective Superintendent Sandra Pullman," I finished for him without meaning to. It's like I wanted to make it quite clear that I knew where the gates of Hell were and I certainly didn't need directions from him. Ok, gates of Hell being a little too strong; I don't think she ever wanted to torture me endlessly in a burning pit of fire. Even if that's how it felt for a short while. And I mean a short while; most of the time, well all of it really until the last few months, that we'd shared had been… good seemed so insignificant, wonderful.

"Yes, indeed, well, clearly you've done your homework, I'll leave you to it."

Finally he was gone. Leaving me standing alone in a room full of people staring like an ignoramus at the woman in front of me. I should probably speak first.

"Done your homework? Your mother would be proud," she said in a way that managed to be both sarcastic and flirtatious. And meant that she'd spoken first. Damn.

"I always did my homework," I protested. Great, now I even sounded like the stupid teenager I had been when we'd first met. "Sandra…"

"Robert?" what the hell did he want now? "Sorry to interrupt, I'd just like to introduce Yvonne to the Detective Superintendent. Sandra, this is…"

I listened to the sound of her voice and drank in every article I could categorise about her while the introductions were carried out and the hapless loon I was going to have to report to for the rest of my days thankfully vanished again. Knowing that she could probably feel my eyes boring into her like a laser (great, now I have a superhero complex…), I forced my gaze away to see if there was an appropriate window I could jump out of; wall to bash my head against; cold shower to run into (though why they'd have thought to put one of those in the mess hall I really don't know); or person of little or preferably no interest that I could be distracted by. There was not.

"And, er, this initiative has been very successful apparently…"

Luckily I tuned back into their conversation at the right moment. This woman was likely to let the cat out of the bag any minute that I wanted UCOS to reinvestigate her husband's death.

"Well we've been very fortunate – " Sandra began in a diplomatic tone. She was always too modest. I'd read all about UCOS (and the dog), so the dimwit-bore wasn't entirely wrong when he said I'd done my homework; UCOS was probably the most successful unit that was running at the moment. Consistently successful too. So I interrupted her.

"Superintendent Pullman is being unnecessarily modest. UCOS' clear up rate has been tremendous," I'm not so sure that interrupting her was such a good thing to do. She'd never liked that. Damn. I was making more of a mess of this than I'd imagined possible. Though how I had imagined the reuniting going, I have no idea because every time I thought about it, my legs turned to jelly, my voice rose three octaves and I was standing in the school assembly hall one break time squawking that I really liked the colour of her hair. Smooth, I was always smooth.

"Mr Strickland thought that the rest of your team might have been here."

This woman had a very pointy voice. At this moment in time she definitely represented our old drama teacher, Mrs. Thinly; who during that first like-the-colour-of-your-hair conversation had seen fit to walk past and inform me that my form tutor thought I might have liked to remember that I had a lunchtime detention with him. Which made me look even less smooth than I had been successfully avoiding until her intrusion. Interestingly, it was Sandra who seemed to stumble in response to the remark this time.

"Yes," she said in a way that could only have been described as desperately-trying-to-think-of-a-good-way-to-say-i t. "I suspect they've had trouble getting away from a prior engagement."

She'd have gotten away for it too, if it hadn't been for the sudden shout that I think the West Midland division probably heard.

"ROSSY!"

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," Sandra said hastily and made an escape in the direction of the sound.

I found myself smiling awkwardly at Yvonne, who was reminding me more and more of Mrs. Thinly by the minute. She was clearly wondering if I'd be spinning her a line about UCOS. She'd have been right to think it too; after all, I hadn't worked with them yet, how did I know that they were any good? Because I knew Sandra. Only, pointy-voice lady for one didn't need to know that. Sandra made her way back to us with three men whose faces I recognised from their records in tow. One of whom gave me a very knowing look, as if he knew me too. Or something about me. Well, they'd probably read up too. Sandra introduced the rest of her team to us, and I shook their hands in turn.

"Thanks you for coming," I said. "I just want to say how pleased I am to be taking over at UCOS. I've been very impressed with your achievements up to now; and I'm looking forward to working with you. I think its going to be a very exciting time."

This went down like the lead balloon it sounded like. At that moment though I managed to spot an escape; it wasn't a cold shower (I didn't need one by now, that look…), or a brick wall or a window. It was one of the officers from the front desk signalling that I had a phone call to take. I couldn't have planned it better.

"Excuse me," I smiled, though half of me wanted to grin like a loon and hop skip and jump out of the room, and the other half of me still would have preferred the brick wall or the window, and slipped away through the crowd.

She hadn't changed. I was sure of it. She was professional, smart and on-guard. But her voice still sounded the same, her eyes still looked the same, and the way she made me feel… maybe I could that under control for the next time we spoke so that I didn't sound like a petulant teenager. Which would be hard, because one thing had changed, she wasn't with me any more. There was a pride and protectiveness in someone else's eyes now when they looked at her. I know, because he looked daggers at me.


	5. Chapter 5

V

"Ah, here we are," the ominous voice of the Assistant Commissioner boomed behind me. Yes, here we were, sixteen years after we'd last seen each other about to be reunited with the most odious arbitrator possible. Luckily, he was at least clueless. I turned around, more out of necessary politeness than desire, and immediately found my eyes drawn to his. A blue paler than my own, like a tinted mirror that had a strangely magnetic quality. I consciously pulled my gaze away, looking around in case there might be a convenient window to jump out of or door to run out of. Finding none in dash-able distance, I focussed on the AC numbskull as he started to introduce us. "Deputy Assistant Commissioner Robert Strickland, this is Detective –"

"Detective Superintendent Sandra Pullman," his voice captured my title and name in a reverent symphony of tones I thought I'd never hear again. Not that I hadn't wanted to. I had never meant to push him away to the point of ending what had been a wonderful relationship. I'd pushed him away at the time when I'd needed him most. I never meant to hurt him.

"Yes, indeed, well, clearly you've done your homework, I'll leave you to it."

Did he have to? What the hell would I say to him? What did I want to say to him? I'm sorry. Well, it would have been a to-the-point opening. "Done your homework? Your mother would be proud," my brain decided auto-pilot response would be the best option. Why did I have to bring his mother into it? Damn.

"I always did my homework," he protested, sounding every bit the indignant school-boy that I had fallen for all those years ago. "Sandra…"

"Robert?" thank heavens for that, the AC was back, saving me from having to find a way of retracting the comment about his mother. "Sorry to interrupt, I'd just like to introduce Yvonne to the Detective Superintendent. Sandra, this is…"

I was introduced to the woman who'd introduced Robert on stage. Auto-pilot could take care of that one too, while I avoided thinking about how his very presence beside me was affecting my composure. My thoughts drifted to wondering if Gerry and the others had left the pub yet. Shit. Gerry. If it was this obvious to me, how obvious would it be to him? I could almost feel Robert's eye on me, yeah right, a quick glance toward him told me he was looking around the room, desperate for somewhere else to be, someone else's company to be in.

"And, er, this initiative has been very successful apparently…"

Even the woman was finding it difficult to maintain small-talk, and she wasn't distracted by a long-lost love standing beside her.

"Well we've been very fortunate – " I replied diplomatically. We had been, so far our only disaster (that anyone knew about) was that fiasco with the psychic. Where were they? Honestly, they could turn up roaring drunk right now, well Jack and Gerry could, Brian would be rolling his eyes behind them, and I would be glad to see them.

"Superintendent Pullman is being unnecessarily modest. UCOS' clear up rate has been tremendous."

Oh no. He had been reading up on us. Though I could swear he'd have said that even if he had no clue what UCOS stood for. So much of my attention right now was on not enjoying the fact that he had jumped to my rescue even though I didn't need rescuing.

"Mr Strickland thought that the rest of your team might have been here."

This woman's voice was starting to really grate on me. She was like that teacher that had come and interrupted Robert during our first conversation to tell him he had a detention or something like that. Of course that had only made him more attractive. He'd been stumbling over some sort of compliment about my hair, but he could have been telling me that a bird had just pooped on it. Even at school his voice had held this magical tone.

"Yes," I desperately tried to stay in the present and remember that my current boyfriend's whereabouts were being questioned. Seriously, where were they? "I suspect they've had trouble getting away from a prior engagement."

"ROSSY!"

They were here. Relief and embarrassment spread through me in equal measures.

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," I said hastily and made an escape in the direction of the sound.

Gerry spotted me cutting through the crowd toward him and called me over. How much at that moment did I want him to just drag me off to the pub to where we should all have been after the christening? A lot. Sure, it had been awkward at first, finding myself surrounded by what was quite a large family and until Gerry Junior's arrival exclusively female, but they'd welcomed me in really quickly and sometimes, even though all I'd like to do is curl up with Gerry on the sofa, I couldn't remember life being any other way than it had been these last eight months. Or right now, company that I would rather be in. Gerry introduced me to the former detective before all eyes turned to where Pointy-Voice was standing with Robert Strickland.

"Who's the stiff with her?" Gerry asked.

Suddenly some part of me decided that being back in the awkward position of standing next to my first love would be not only more bearable now with Gerry beside me, but an absolute necessity.

"Our new boss," I informed him. "Let's go find out what he thinks of you."

As I started to move back to where I had just been, wondering what exactly I'd meant by my own words, I realised they weren't following.

"Now!" I grabbed hold of Gerry's arm. How I was ever going to explain any of this to him I had no idea. But let them meet, that would be a start.

I introduced Pointy-Voice and Robert to the boys in turn. There was something to be said for strength in numbers. Having them around me allowed me to relax and offer a slightly more genuine smile. Clearly this was not the same for Robert who responded by sounding like the stiff that Gerry had called him.

"Thank you for coming," he said. "I just want to say how pleased I am to be taking over at UCOS. I've been very impressed with your achievements up to now; and I'm looking forward to working with you. I think its going to be a very exciting time. Excuse me," his attention had been caught by something over the other side of the room and he disappeared. Pointy-Voice also made her escape practically unnoticed, turning to talk to Ross who had reappeared in our eye-line.

I glanced around as Gerry did the same, before leaning into me and offering his valuation of our new boss: "I want to have his babies,"

I wanted to smile back at him, kiss him, let him take me back to the pub. His words however touched the very nerve that I thought had stopped hurting years ago; though I don't know how I could ever believe that it would. He'd done a decent enough job of making it clear enough that I was his, giving a subtle air of protectiveness which mingled with Jack and Brian's. I allowed them to treat me like a girl sometimes; in fact I quite liked it. But I'd been someone else's when I was a girl and nothing would change the past.


	6. Chapter 6

_Hiya, just a quick one while I have a break from real-life. Enjoy!_

_Jessie xx_

VI

"I want to congratulate you on all your success with UCOS. Your record speaks for itself both before and since the unit was established."

"Thank you sir," I replied curtly. He'd called me to one side when he'd returned from wherever-it-was that he'd found that had been better than staying in my company. Probably the introduction of my current boyfriend (was boyfriend an immature word?) had been a touch insensitive.

"I know part of you is disappointed in missing out on promotion but heading UCOS is a very good place to be right now."

What the hell was he talking about?

"I assure you I completely – "

"Especially if you can find a way to rein in its overspend. If you and I ensure that the resources at our disposal justify themselves cost effectively as – "

I was fuming. Though I couldn't place an exact finger on why. There were several reasons; firstly, why was he talking to me like I was a complete stranger? Secondly, who the hell did he think he was swanning in and implying that I couldn't catch a promotion if it stood lazily in front of me daring me to catch its little self with the massive net that I would be holding? I started to reply: "Well, logistics dictate that things such as office equipment, petrol – "

"I'm talking about the men."

Ok, that would be a third reason. What was this obsession with interrupting me, also? I was too gob-smacked to form a response at this point so he just carried on, his once beautiful voice now starting to grate on my nerves. What was that cologne he was wearing?

"I also think it's a good idea to begin prioritising cases grading them according to their chances of success. Their importance; impact; etc. Rather than simply if one is more interesting than another, don't you agree?"

No.

"To which end I think you should start with this," he handed me a file, I might have guessed it would be the Barry case, if I hadn't been so distracted in the run-up to this meeting, I might have guessed. "I'm hoping for a fulfilling and productive relationship, Superintendent. Enjoy."

Oh no, he was not getting away with this.

"Robert," I was fuming. More than fuming. Furious. Because despite everything. Every little unctuous tone of disdain, snobbery, infuriating poncy-ness, he was still the man I had married.

"Sandra?" he was uncertain now. His voice wavered as he used my first name. As if he might have forgotten it. Until that moment I had almost been sure that he had! The lost look in his eyes. He'd been in control throughout the exchange; just a new senior officer laying down the lines of the field to his underlings. But now I had the reins of the conversation; I just had to work out where to point it's head.

"Is that it?" I asked. For some reason (ok, many reasons, most of them coming under the category of the somehow-bleedingly-obvious) I found a sudden cache of emotion filtering up through me. My anger had dissipated to mere upset and I yearned for just a whisper of the connection we used to share. "Sixteen years. Now, here's the rules, here's a case, get on with it without spending too much on paperclips?"

He swallowed. I could hear the panicked thoughts as they raced around his head: direct confrontation, he never could face anything head on.

"Sa… Superintendent…" he faltered on my name, the hesitancy in his voice not leaving when he returned to rank.

"No," I said plainly.

"What?"

OK, so he had a point, I'm not sure what I was saying no to. The result of this was the two of us standing in the corridor, in silence. The voice of sixteen years silence passed between us.

"I'm sorry," I said at length. I had to say something. And there it was. It felt like my heart was breaking all over again as I acknowledged both vocally and to myself that the reality was the reality: we'd known each other, now we were strangers, he was my boss. "We'll get right on to it." I tapped the file in my hand, as if to prove to him and myself that all I was apologising for was a moment of insubordination.

He nodded, still seeming unsure of anything to say.

"Sandra…"

I shook my head. "We knew each other, once."

It was a simple statement, one which he acquiesced by nodding once more.


	7. Chapter 7

_Heya, sorry this is a short one, it was kinda Robert's turn to speak but I sort of trapped it a bit. Just getting back into everything after an unintentionally long break! Anyway… ramble over; enjoy!_

_Jessie xx_

* * *

VII

She called my name. Damn. I had been so sure of keeping control over that conversation. But she always did have to get the last word.

"Sandra?" the sound of her name as it fell unbidden from my lips cut the air. Suddenly, the strictly professional attitude I had taken was the precise opposite of what I wanted to have done. The modicum of control that I had maintained was gone. An uncommon fear was behind my eyes now, how I hoped she couldn't see it. Her eyes were fierce; her tone was sharp.

"Is that it?" she asked. The sharpness was gone. Before me stood the woman I had fallen head over heels for. In the bland, emotionless corridor in the heart of the MET, the girl who had been my life held my heart in an unspoken whisper. What had happened to us? "Sixteen years. Now, here's the rules, here's a case, get on with it without spending too much on paperclips?"

How could I answer her? I thought it was the best way to proceed? The echoes of that last conversation wounded my ears. I swallowed.

"Sa… Superintendent…" I was trapped in the headlights of what had turned into the biggest disaster since I had left that night. Sixteen years ago she had asked me to leave: I should never have left.

"No," she stated.

"What?" I was confused.

The voice of sixteen years silence passed between us.

"I'm sorry," she said at length. "We'll get right on to it," she tapped the folder in her hand. I had forgotten about the folder.

I had to say something. But it felt like my heart was breaking all over again as I realised the truth of our situation; we'd known each other, now we were strangers. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Ever again, maybe I should just cut my tongue out before my brain can come up with any other ridiculous ideas of how to deal with things. Not that this was just anything, of course. This was the woman I had loved, married, lived a lifetime with in six years before she had pushed me away and I had stupidly gone.

"Sandra…" maybe it wasn't too late, maybe I could save what I'd lost.

She shook her head. It was too late. "We knew each other, once."

It was a simple statement, one which was undeniable in its validity. I nodded and watched her return to the room. Doors shouldn't have windows. Because through the window in this door I had to watch her move effortlessly through the crowd and into the subtle embrace of somebody else's arms as if there were no-one else in the room except the man she was seeking. Doors shouldn't have windows.

The rest of the function and the working day passed me by in a blur where I made small talk, vague assertions to looking forward to my new role and avoided bumping into any member of the UCOS team; this latter task was facilitated by their own aversion to meeting me again and disappearing surreptitiously from the proceedings. Returning home, I occupied myself helping Hermione and Rufus with their homework; listening to my wife talk about so-and-so from the country club that she'd met in the hairdressers and wouldn't it be nice to go skiing in half-term? I don't know, I might have successfully jumped off the side of my boat by then. How could I have possibly imagined that meeting her again wouldn't turn my head upside-down? Watching Helen float around the house in her designer clothes talking about designer people, I remembered the shabby little terraced house that Sandra and me had lived in. We'd been skint, the only thing designer in our lives had been Tony who'd lived two doors up with his extravagant partner. I think he was an estate agent. Tony was an interior designer who sold wallpaper to Debenhams. He would always say good morning. Life had seemed so simple then. Life had been so simple then.

"Robert? Are you even there?"

I blinked. Smiled. Nodded. "I'm here."

It was all I could say, for now.


End file.
